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All 07.1 - Ethereal Jaunt
“How long is this supposed to take?!” Victor yelled. “How the fuck am I supposed to know?!” Lucca yelled back. It was only a matter of seconds until one of them fell victim to possession again, and the panic was evident in everyone. Victor was already bleeding in several spots where Caitlyn had stabbed him, first with his own sword, then with her knife. If they didn’t do something quickly, then they would eventually pick each other off. Victor stared pointedly into the hand mirror, desperately keeping his own gaze; he wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but he held on hope that whatever it was would happen before the others attacked him again, or worse, he attacked them. Should he fall prey to the creature, he feared what he could do to the younger adventurers. Suddenly, he wasn’t holding the mirror anymore. He looked around to see that the ruins were no longer ruined. He was in a basement: the room’s periphery was cluttered with boxes, rugs and other stored items, and the only light came from his helmet. A young woman was kneeling on the ground, her hands over her mouth and her eyes filled with fear and hope. A scuttling noise came from above; Victor turned his head upward, for the first time clearly seeing his opponent. The creature appeared to be a giant spider made entirely out of polished wood, its legs ending in human hands and its featureless face human in shape. Strings came from each fingertip on its front four hands, while its other hands clung to the ceiling. The strings hung down, and appeared to be attempting to wrap around air; a closer look revealed a subtle, shimmering sort of shape: it was trying to possess Caitlyn or Lucca, their souls vaguely visible from Etheria. It was a horrifying combination of marionette and puppeteer. Victor raised his sword as the creature turned towards him, hissing in anger and offense. It pulled its strings back like tendrils, readying to strike a new target. There was a tense pause. The strings lashed at where Victor had stood a half-second before. He twisted and slashed his sword out towards the threads, severing some of them, the loose ends falling softly to the floor. The wooden spider whipped its strings again and again, its hissing getting more and more frustrated as Victor parried and dodged, slicing through them with no resistance. It reared back for a powerful lash; the swordsman took the second of opportunity to dash forward. Without a second thought, he jumped lightly from box to box, lunging up the storage crates. Reaching the top, he didn’t pause, but kicked and twisted off of the wall towards where the spider clung to the ceiling. His blade poised, he swung his sword with the momentum of his jump, cleanly carving through the joints of two of the creature’s legs. It screeched in pain and frustration; with the sudden loss of its legs, it faltered for its balance, and both parties fell towards the ground. While neither landed with particular grace, both were on their feet in a flash. The stumps of the puppet’s legs were dry, as though it truly was wood all the way through. It hissed and started to back away somewhat clumsily; it held up its right forelegs and hands, the strings from its fingers writhing threateningly, but was forced to use his other legs to walk. Pressing his offensive, Victor lunged forward again, slicing through the strings that raced to stop him. He cut through the creature’s upheld hands, and the pieces fell to the stone like dead wood. Advancing ruthlessly, Victor’s sword spun in all directions, ripping through the marionette’s defenses and parrying its attacks simultaneously. Its screeches turned from anger to fear as it tried to pull itself away but could not. The swordsman continued his barrage as the puppet fell to the ground, as its hissing quieted, and as its arms ceased twitching. He finally held his blade when the creature dissolved, leaving no trace. Victor held ready for another moment, his eyes roving about, looking for further opponents. When everything remained still, he stood up straight and sheathed his sword. He realized briefly that he wasn’t tired, or even out of breath, before the woman caught his attention. She had stood and was smiling, her eyes tearing up with happiness. She curtsied towards him, and he bowed in turn. She spoke something in a language that Victor couldn’t understand, but he knew was gratitude. He smiled and bowed his head again. With a look of pure happiness and relief, she faded away. Looking about the now-empty basement, Victor turned his attention to his own plight. He could see the vague, shimmering outline of a shape still, but only one. Focusing closely on it, he could vaguely work out the faint image of Lucca; Caitlyn must have left. Hoping against all hope that Lucca was looking in the mirror, Victor stood and, as slowly and clearly as he could manage, spoke, “Meet...my...house,” trying to mime out the words. Hedging his bets, he repeated this in several locations, in case he had been facing the wrong way; the outline was too faint to really know if or where the druid was looking. As he went to repeat himself again, he heard a rumble. Looking about, he saw the edges of the crates begin to dissolve, evaporating into flecks of light that quickly disappeared. “...Oooh, no,” he said slowly, taking a few steps backwards, then turning and running towards the wooden ladder that led up to the higher level. Victor ran at breakneck speed through the basement, now seeing what the crumbling rooms had looked like originally, before the centuries had worn them away. He quickly reached the floor they had entered from the cave system, but found that it was still just a basement with more floors above it. He ran up further, each floor bringing a new curse from the man. A few thoughts passed through his mind as he tore about, trying to find an exit: he feared that this place may have always reached to the Underdark, suggesting a frightening number of floors to climb; he realized that he still wasn’t tiring or losing breath; he wondered if it was that fey alone who had kept the entire place locked in Etheria, long after it should have faded into the past, and its death had now freed not only the woman but the whole building. As he ascended, the sounds of rumbling goaded him on almost as much as the sight of objects and walls dissolving into nothingness. The dusty basements used for storage changed into living quarters, still underground; he saw glimpses of other people who, smiling, bowed to him and vanished. He had no idea how long he had been running, only that he couldn’t stop. Walls and doors faded around him, but the hallways stayed solid, outlining his path; he wondered if it was collapsing this way for his benefit. That would be rather decent of it…''he thought. There was no way of knowing how long he ran before he reached a floor with windows, light streaming in from outside. With a triumphant laugh, he lunged towards a door and threw himself out onto the long grass that grew directly outside. He turned around and watched as the castle, its spires reaching so far into the sky, faded rapidly from existence, leaving an empty field in its wake. The danger over, he stood up to his waist in wild grasses and looked about, somewhat at a loss. There were no landmarks in sight, only fields of waving plants. The grass itself was odd; it was an ashy grey colour. ''Maybe because it’s winter? He looked up and frowned; there was no sun, despite the light. No direction looked any more inviting than any other. He started considering his options, and came back to the fact that he hadn’t suffered any ill effects from his race through the castle; he decided it must be because he was in Etheria. With that thought, his mind turned to the angel’s necklace in his bag. I should probably put that on before the plane starts to get to me, he thought as he took off his other charm and placed it in his pack. Retrieving the gold necklace, adorned with a single, giant pearl, he clasped it around his neck. Immediately, his body experienced the accumulated physical effects of what he had done on the plane, as though he had returned to Materia. Convulsing and gasping, Victor collapsed and passed out from his now-felt efforts of running. ---- Victor’s eyes fluttered open. It was still day. Was it always day, with no sun? How long had he been out? His mouth was dry. His everything was dry. He tried to move, only to find that that was a painfully unlikely prospect. Well...at least my heart didn’t fail...and...I didn’t choke on vomit...so, small blessings...''He managed to roll over onto his back with effort, every muscle in his body torn to some degree. A series of small squeaks emanated from the grass as it was disturbed. As Victor lay effectively paralyzed on the ground, he felt rustling around him, followed by soft prodding in several places. He managed to look over to the side, and his field of vision was filled by a small creature inches from his face. It was a rodent-like creature with large ears, large eyes, a large mouth, and soft fur in a pale pink colour. It made inquisitive peeping noises and prodded at his face with its own; it didn’t actually appear to have limbs. He lifted his head, causing him to wince, and saw that a small horde of the fluffy creatures, in a wide array of pastel colours, had surrounded him and were nudging and hopping on him. He dropped his head back to the ground. ''Great. Bunnies. With protracted effort, Victor eventually pulled himself upright and retrieved his canteen from his pack. He fought off the urge to drink the whole thing too quickly, and tried to stretch between mouthfuls. The small, rabbit-like creatures remained, bouncing around him and climbing up onto his lap. At first, he tried to push them away, but they kept it up, peeping and squeaking happily, so, since they didn’t seem to be hurting anything, he just ignored them. Time passed, or didn’t, Victor couldn’t tell. He ate some oatmeal and conserved what water he could until he could get more. Forcing himself upright, he readied to walk. This appeared to upset the rainbow rodents, who shuffled about his feet, making grumpy noises and trying to climb up his legs. Victor gave a half-hearted attempt to push them away before they tripped him before giving in entirely. At least they don’t weigh anything...''he thought, trudging forward with an array of peeping rabbit-balls sitting on his shoulders and pack. A blue one sat jauntily on his head, trilling. ''Every time I think I’ve reached the depths of my dignity, life just finds a way to prove me wrong. ---- The fields stretched on infinitely, as far as Victor was concerned. He couldn’t tell what direction he was walking, there were no clues to suggest time was passing, and the puffy creatures were of no help. His water ran out before too long; he was glad that the oatmeal, now his only source of nourishment and hydration, wasn’t particularly thick. Sometimes he could see animals wander past: some looked more or less like average mortal animals; others were closer to wild, fantastical interpretations of such. Nothing looked like it would give him any assistance. He took it as a particularly poor sign when a turkey vulture started circling him. ---- “Mmm, you must be all sorts of interesting,” a woman’s voice suddenly said from behind him. Victor stopped in his tracks; the bunnies seemed unperturbed. Turning around, he saw someone standing a few feet back. She was obviously a woman, as evidenced by her ample and naked chest; however, from her waist down, she had the legs, feathers and tail of a powerful dark bird. Imposing brown-black wings spread out from her shoulders, and her arms, from the elbows, resembled the scaled talons of a bird’s legs as well. Her hair, cut short, was the same colour as her plumage, and her face, not unpleasant, was painted with excessive, bright red eyeshadow, lipstick and blush. “That many rats? And they seem to like you. How cute.” Victor coughed and adverted his gaze. She giggled, showing her razor-sharp teeth, “Oh, and you’re a prude too! Aren’t you just the rare one?” “Can I help you, Miss...Harpy?” he ventured. “Oh, I’m just curious, Mr. Human,” she returned. “What’s something like you doing out here? You must know you aren’t going to last too long.” “Longer than you’d expect,” he replied. He looked up and saw the sky was empty. “I assume that that was you watching me.” “Ooh, big brave man. Don’t you know what happens to humans in Etheria?” “Yes. I’m not worried.” The blue bunny on his head made a sing-song trill, and bounced a few times. “Alright, what are these things?” he said with a tinge of anger, kneeling and brushing them all off. They made sad noises and began hopping around his feet. She laughed, “They’re a parasite. They’re attracted to evil creatures. Usually they hang around houses and things, stealing food and messing up plans, generally getting in the way of or fixing up bad situations.” She continued, obviously finding this hilarious, “I could smell the evil on you a mile away, no wonder the things showed up.” “Smelled?” “I have a very good sense of smell. Anyway, they obviously like you, so you can’t actually be dangerous. What did you do, murder a village for someone and feel bad about it?” He blinked a few times, and said, “Ugh, nevermind. I’m looking for a city. Am I going in the right direction?” “Which one?” “Arlington.” She smiled, “Cities here don’t have names.” “Of course they don’t,” he said, rubbing his temple. “Well, am I heading towards one?” “Obviously. I’m sure if you walked long enough in any direction you’d find a city.” This got an unimpressed look. “Well, thank you for your help then.” “Don’t mind me. I’m just going to wait around until you die. I’m curious as to what you taste like,” she said with a toothy grin as she took off into the sky. “...Bloody vulture,” he muttered, and continued walking, lacking other options. His fluffy companions tried their best to keep up, squeaking piteously as he left them behind. He didn’t get far until he stopped, gave a sigh of self-loathing, and picked them all back up again. ---- The plains rolled on, the grey grasses staying relatively uniform, with irregular patches of different plants; he assumed these were farms. Victor desperately hoped that he was just in southern Asanon, and not in Yeto or the Peninsula, or somewhere even further. He walked until he got tired, and then just stopped where he was. Still, day never left. He decided to sleep, but, seeing as how he was alone in a dangerous land, he napped sitting up, sword in hand. He felt a brush against his leg; he started awake and lashed out with his sword. A woman yelled out, there was a cacophony of peeps, and a loud sound of rustling movement. As he came to, he realized that now, suddenly, it was night, the sky completely void of stars, and yet, not pitch-black. The vulture harpy was standing nearby, ruffled. “Well, I guess you aren’t dead just yet,” she said with a bit of offense. “You must be close though.” “I was sleeping! That’s not the same at all!” he yelled. The bunny creatures were still hopping about and squeaking. “Uggh,” he growled; he certainly wasn’t sleeping anymore, and the uncomfortable position and sudden movement had not helped his aching muscles any. “Why would you sleep now? In the middle of a dangerous field?” “Because, I was tired! And now, I am both tired and angry, so I legitimately doubt there are many things out here as dangerous as me!” he said, rather surly. She looked something between offended and impressed. “Ooh, well then.” She took off. He growled again, stiff and upset. The little fluffy rodents looked at him timidly, agitated and scared. His gaze fell on them, and they flinched, making quiet little chirps. “Ugh, I’m not going to take it out on you,” he said towards them, still grouchy, trying to get comfortable. They inched forward, and cuddled up around his legs again, making a purring sort of noise. He sighed and rubbed his temples, “Riast damn me, I’m pathetic.” ---- It carried on like this for some time. Night and day sometimes switched without warning; he continued walking until he couldn’t anymore, then slept uncomfortably on the ground. His torn muscles healed, though his sleeping arrangements and prolonged walking kept them from completely recovering. He had no indication of progress, but he had no reason to stop or change direction, if in fact he was heading straight to begin with. The harpy followed him overhead; occasionally, she came down to say something. At first she was confused and a bit irritated that he didn’t seem to be getting closer to death, but this gradually switched to interest and admiration. She also joked about his rodent infestation; as time passed, she offered to get rid of them for him, as apparently they were rather tasty. He replied that, should she wish to keep all of her limbs and feathers intact, she would keep her distance from them. She laughed, mocking his “adopted little chicks”, but she got an odd look in her eyes as she flew off. ---- “Oh, come on…” he muttered. “See if I ever rescue ghost princesses again…” His grousing was cut short as he dodged out of the way of the rampaging bull creature. It gave a bellow as it turned around, preparing to charge him again. The little bunny creatures had vanished when it first attacked, probably hiding in the grass, leaving Victor to deal with the enraged animal himself. He didn’t know why it was attacking, or even really what it was: A bull? A buffalo? Aren’t those usually in herds? Is this the spirit of a herd or something? All he really knew was that he was sore, tired, aggravated, and very much in no mood to be attacked by a spirit cow. He dodged it again and drew his sword, waiting for it to come again. It did, but this time, as it passed, Victor yelled and drove his sword into its flank, its momentum dragging the creature along the blade, leaving a huge gash that bled a glowing white substance. The bull yelled in anguish, staggering away. It turned around; Victor yelled, twirling his sword threateningly. The bleeding creature gave another few half-hearted calls before showing submission to Victor’s display and retreating. “Hmph,” Victor sheathed his sword, as the bunnies hopped back out. “Seriously? You’re still here?” he asked them as they kept cheeping at him and bouncing about. He heard the sound of wings as the harpy landed. “Ugh, I am not in the…” he was cut off as suddenly her arms were around him, pressing her into his body. “What, what is this?” he asked as he struggled against her pull. “What, you don’t know?” she said. “Hard to imagine someone like you is a virgin.” She giggled into his ear. “Oh, no no, none of this, not again,” he struggled to escape her grip, but her taloned hands were digging into his shoulders. “I’ve never seen a male refuse before. What’s the matter? Already have a mate?” She grabbed onto his ankle with her foot and pulled it out from under him. As he fell, she went with him, pinning him firmly to the ground with the weight of her body and large wings. He continued to squirm, “Oh, is that why you’re trying so hard to get somewhere? Did you leave your mate all alone?” “No, I don’t have a ‘mate’, now get off of me!” He could probably use his sword, still in hand, but even at this point he was hesitant to outright attack her. “Then what’s your big, all-fired hurry then?” she said, mocking a patronizing tone. “Because I have a son!” She raised an eyebrow, “Oh?” He growled, “I have a son, and he’s in Materia, and I need to get back because without me he’s all alone!” The harpy gave a delighted squeal, causing Victor to writhe harder. “Well, now I just have to have you!” Victor wriggled unsuccessfully before suddenly stopping, slumping limply into the dirt. “...You’re not letting me out of this without force?” “Mmmm, I don’t see you trying all that hard…” she said coyly. “I could kill you,” She pressed up her face into his neck, “Oh, I’m sure you could, a big, strong swordsman like you. But you wouldn’t hurt a defenseless lady like me, would you?” “....” his face was obviously displeased and his gaze distant as the harpy began to playfully nibble at his neck, giggling at Victor’s propriety. “...If I...do this, with you, you will take me to the city I’m looking for.” “Is that all you want? Sure.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear, “But it had better be really, really, good.” With a pause and a sigh, Victor mentally cursed his existence. ---- It was a long trek to the city, following a vulture through the plains of grasses to the forests and fields of central Asanon, or at least the Etherian version of it. The harpy kept her word, and eventually, Victor was confronted with a jumble of buildings and lights that appeared before him on the horizon with unearthly speed. “Well, that should be the one. The city that’s not in the plains, not by the ocean, not the oldest, not the newest, and doesn’t have giant towers,” the harpy summarized, landing beside him. “This is as far as I’m going; city’s no place for me.” She wrinkled her nose, “Can’t stand city folk. Weirdos, all of ‘em.” “Thank you for your assistance,” Victor said, bowing. “No, thank you,” she said. She sidled up to him, “What’s this then, no goodbye kiss?” He turned his face away, rolling his eyes, as she pressed in. She pulled back, giggling, “Mmm, no romance, all business. You must get all the ladies,” she said. “Here,” with a quick flick of her wrist, she tugged out a feather from her wing. She held it out to him, “Keep this, would you?” Victor took it and spun it around in his fingers a few times. “A good luck charm then?” She giggled, “Hardly. I’d just want a way to track you down easy if I have your chick.” The colour washed from his face, “How would that even…” he trailed off. “You know where babies come from. How did you get your son?” she said mockingly. “The result of very peculiar magic and a stork!” he said defensively. “Well, you’re already more well-informed than most! I knew it wasn’t your first time with a lady like me.” “I...I don’t…” “You could just get rid of it,” she said leadingly, “But would you reeeeeally want to abandon your child like that?” “You don’t even know there will be one!! And how would you even know if it was mine?!” “No, no I don’t know there will be one, but I’m pretty sure I’d know if it was yours though. Mortal-born children always tend to look a certain way. Really have a resemblance. Anyway, I’m just saying, if a chick does show up, you’ll take responsibility, right? If not, go on and throw the feather out.” She stood and watched him for a minute as he clenched his jaw. He kept hold on the feather though. She laughed again, “It’s a shame my other partners didn’t have your sense of duty.” Flapping her wings, “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime!” With that, she took off, leaving Victor standing with a rather unfortunate look on his face. Turning back to the city, he mumbled a string of curses under his breath as he slipped the feather into his pocket. ---- The streets of the city were confusing at best. The buildings were all different: strange shapes, colours and styles made each building at least a little different, and the overall chaotic look resembled nothing of Arlington. Strange creatures, some humanoid, some not, wandered about their business, as the vague outlines of people on Materia could be seen doing the same. Many of the fey gave him strange looks; some turned and stared, others whispered to their neighbours, but none addressed him directly. He didn’t know whether it had to do with him being mortal, or from the numerous bunny creatures still riding about on him. In either case, he was grateful for the lack of interference; despite the alteration of the buildings’ appearance, the streets seemed to be in more or less the same place. He found his house without too much difficulty. It too looked different from the outside, but the location seemed correct. Once there, he walked up the steps. The door, however, wouldn’t open, despite not being locked. He spent what might have been hours pushing at the door to no avail; I pity ghosts if this is what they have to deal with. Finally, with a herculean effort, he managed to twist the knob, shove the door open just wide enough to sneak through and make it indoors. The door quietly slid back shut after him. No wonder ghosts break things; I’d be frustrated too. Now inside, he looked about and saw that it wasn’t only the exterior that was different; the inside of the house was dramatically different as well. It was as though everything had been replaced and redecorated, but in an entirely different fashion. The floors, walls and furniture looked like they were from a foreign country, but somehow, Victor found them comforting. He wracked his brain, until he decided that everything here had to be from Yeto. But why? And why did it seem vaguely familiar? He didn’t know. He had made it back. He sat down on the reed mat flooring in the middle of the sitting room. Hopefully, the others would find him here. He collected himself after the journey, as the bunnies hopped about, investigating. Suddenly, they were silent. Victor looked about the room, and saw that the fluffy creatures had vanished. Rising slowly, he put his hand on his sword as he turned around. Behind him stood a man, or at least, what one would guess was a man. He was tall, with light blue, medium-length hair; he was dressed in fine clothes, and wore a harlequin mask that had an inquisitive sort of face. As Victor’s eyes fell on him, the mask suddenly and immediately changed to a smile, without ever appearing to have moved. The creature’s hair was suddenly a bright orange colour, and may have shortened a bit as well. Without speaking, it mimed a welcome, and then made a sort of gesture towards him. It took a few minutes for Victor to realize that it wanted him to introduce himself. “My name is Victor Erzebet. Who are you?” The creature, mask still grinning, pulled a crown from the air and placed it on his head, its hair suddenly quite long and gold. He unfurled a piece of paper, that appeared to have a crude crayon drawing of a city on it. “You rule this city?” Victor asked. The creature revealed another sheet from behind it, and another, like he was showing cue cards. Each had a picture of a slightly different city on it, drawn messily in colourful wax. “You rule all cities.” He made a sort of disbelieving face, “That’s a pretty hefty claim.” The harlequin tossed the papers over his shoulder, whereupon they disappeared, as he held up his hand in a ‘no big deal’ sort of gesture. “Well, regardless, do you have business with me?” The harlequin responded, as its hair and mask abruptly changed again, with a questioning motion towards Victor. Again, it took him a little while to figure out the meaning. “...No, I have no business with you.” Its face coy, it spread it arms out wide before bringing them in to point at himself. “Well, I would rather not have business with you,” he amended, eyes narrowing. “No offense, but you seem like someone who charges rather steeply.” The creature’s mask looked upset and offended as he brought his hand up to his ‘lips’, then suddenly grinning again, he made a dismissive gesture. He opened the edge of his coat, revealing a variety of strange items attached to the interior, gesturing down them, offering. He did the same for the other side of his jacket. The curios were certainly odd, and were probably rather tempting. Victor, however, turned away, not even looking twice. “No thank you. Have a good day.” The harlequin was immediately on the other side of him, still looking like a somewhat terrifying salesman. Victor ignored him, sitting back down and trying to meditate. He ignored him for a very long time. ---- There was no time in the house. Every time Victor opened his eyes or moved about, the harlequin followed him, offering something. It never spoke, but mimed with great alacrity, pulling props from thin air and plying Victor with various things. It started with items and trinkets, then started to get more creative. It could give power. It could give time. Did he want to go home? It could give that as well. How was a mortal living here anyhow? Victor did not humour it with answers, turning it down with every new promise. It began to look a bit frustrated, but it kept up its offerings. It could give so many things, if only he would work with him. Eventually, Victor’s patience wore thin. “You are starting to grate,” he said bluntly. The harlequin’s motions were jovial and slightly mocking; what was Victor going to do? Was he ready to make a deal? Calmly, without explanation, Victor took off his jacket. He rolled up his shirt sleeve, revealing the parts of the tattoo on his forearm. Holding his arm up, he asked, “This is infernal magic. I have...arrangements with Hell. What I am now, is not what I really am.” The harlequin looked at the writing and back to Victor, the expression on the mask inscrutable. “You are annoying me," he continued. "I will not deal with you, no matter what you offer. Leave, and find someone else to harass.” The fey made a thoughtful look, then grinned slightly. It fingers now held a cat’s cradle made of little black chains with irregular links. Smiling now, it stretched its fingers, breaking all of the chains apart. It looked decisively at Victor. The man’s face darkened. His voice was quiet, and dangerous, “I know that laws mean nothing to you, fey. I have my part in this arrangement. I will fulfill it. And I will not be disgraced by allowing something like you to bend my rules for me.” Victor glared coldly at the fey. “Get out. You have no business here.” With that, the harlequin’s mask looked miffed. With a coldly dismissive gesture towards Victor, the fey turned on its heel and disappeared. Victor was neither relaxed, nor relieved. It probably hadn’t gone far. It hadn’t gotten anything worthwhile yet. He put his jacket back on, and waited. ---- Everything was silent, until suddenly Caitlyn appeared. Category:Advent of the All